


Origami

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [469]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:57:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: fr0st6yte asked- John + Gordon, "What's paper?"





	Origami

John frowned, letting himself float.  “You know what paper is.  We have books.”

“Which I’m not allowed to touch on pain of pain.”

John rolled his eyes.  “Well, you always made a beeline for them fresh from the pool and still dripping.”

“So we now know they’re not waterproof, see, learning is fun.  What else?”

“It is a wood byproduct you write on.  Next question.”

He didn’t need to see Gordon’s expression to know he was getting an eyeroll.  “You’re officially off my family Trivial Pursuit team, Jaybird.”

“I’ll sob into my pillow later,” John said drily, his hands flipping through a dozen other feeds.

“Throw yourself onto your fainting couch and wail,” Gordon advised.  “But serious question, I know what wood feels like, and it tends not to crumple, even if you hit it really really hard.”

A part of John wanted to call up the datalog entry on paper production, but a bigger part of him wanted an honest victory.  “Umm, they kind of…grate it up.  And mash it in water.  Then dry it out. Voila, paper.”

There was a long pause.  “They  _grate it up_.  Are you okay, Johnny?  Has the isolation finally got to you?”

John finally gave up, and he found the link to the datalog entry and flicked it to Gordon’s private comm.  “There, the full process.  Includes a video for you visual learners.  Can I go back to my job now?”

“You’re no fun,” Gordon pouted.  In the background, John could hear the change in pitch of the engines as Gordon made his final approach.  “Maybe next time, I’ll teach you something.  Like how to bake the perfect souffle.”

“You don’t know how to bake a souffle.”

“You don’t know that.  Have pen and paper ready for next time class, because I’m gonna school you.”

John sucked on a tooth to stop from smirking.  “I’ll schedule that in my diary.  Your approach is clear, Thunderbird Four,” he added, switching them back to their jobs.  “Welcome home.”


End file.
